Going To Hospital
by mryddinwilt
Summary: ***Series3 Spoilers*** Sherlock's in hospital struggling to stay coherent and comprehend the mysteries of Mary, Molly and human affection. Molly is struggling to trust Sherlock again and gets some advice from unlikely places. A sequel to Going Shopping but could stand on it's own. Set during "His Last Vow". Lots of Sherlolly! Now Complete.
1. Chapter 1

*****Notes*** So here is the sequel. If you haven't read Gone Shopping, I think this will still make sense. BUT you should really go read it! Cause I think it is a pretty fun story. Going back to both POV's in each chapter. Hope you enjoy!**

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><p>My mind is painfully slow. All attempts to think are met with resistance. I try to push through but everything pushes back and nothing stays in focus. I can't recall where I am but I think I am lying down. I think to open my eyes but find they won't obey me. I feel frustration and panic. I try but can't reach consciousness. I hear a faint voice speaking. I listen, straining to make out the words. They sound sensible and soothing. I focus on the voice and suddenly the words are clear.<p>

"You need to relax. You are coming out of the anesthesia. Just be patient." as I hear the soft lilt in her voice I suddenly see her standing in front of me. Her hair is in a simple ponytail and her white lab coat seems to shine. She looks at me seriously and says it again "You need to relax." and, like magic, I feel my body relaxing. "What happened? I ask her.

"You were shot. You are in hospital. Now sleep."

Before I drop back into oblivion. I whisper her name.

"Molly"

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><p>I feel numb. Perhaps the last 24 hours have left my emotions cringing in some corner. I don't blame them for hiding. Hiding seems like a very logical choice at the moment. But I am already outside the hospital and hiding is out of the question. With a deep breath I step through the automatic doors and make my way to Sherlock's room. As I walk I think of the last time I saw the consulting detective. It was only yesterday afternoon but it seems much longer.<p>

The emotionally charged conversation had started with him asking me, in a very Sherlock way, to be his girlfriend. It was sweet and romantic. And our kissing left me in little doubt that Sherlock was, surprisingly, attracted to me. I was incandescently happy for all of thirty seconds.

Then he let it slip that he already had a girlfriend and all I felt was betrayal and anger. His claim that she wasn't a real girlfriend but rather a security weakness he had been cultivating left me unmoved. He then explained his plan to propose and break-up with her. His calm sent chills down my spine. Could he really be so heartless? I felt sick at the thought that our relationship could be similarly manufactured and similarly tossed aside.

We fought. Fighting with Sherlock was a loud and messy affair. Despite my pain and anger I stood my ground. He gave a very good performance as the jilted lover but I couldn't quite believe it. In the end I asked him to leave. I reinstated his banishment from my life; I didn't want to be manipulated anymore. His look of anger and pain almost made me change my mind, almost.

Now his parting words are burned into my mind: "Thank you for confirming that love is nothing more than weakness and human error." Those might have been the last words I ever heard him speak.

I am worried for Sherlock, but I am also still very angry with him. Despite my anger I couldn't refuse to come. John called this morning, sounding exhausted.

"Molly can you come down to the Royal London Hospital?"

"Uh. John. I don't know if Sherlock has told you but we aren't working together anymore." I replied hesitantly.

"What?" I could hear his shock but he recovered quickly. "No. Listen. It's not for a case. Sherlock was shot last night. It was…it was bad. Will you come?"

A million questions formed in my mind but I pushed them aside.

"Yes, of course. I will be there in an hour." I replied.

It is strange being in a hospital that isn't St. Bart's. Many of the sounds and smells are familiar but everything else is different. There is a feeling of almost belonging that only reinforces the fact that I am a stranger here. It all just adds to my increasing sense of emotional disorientation. I approach the nurses station.

"Hi. I am here to see Sherlock Holmes." I say. The nurse looks up from her computer

"The doctors are in with him now. You can see him once they are finished."

"Thanks." I say and turn to the small waiting area. My stomach drops when I recognize Janine sitting in one of the chairs. She has a bandage on the back of her head and looks like she slept in her clothes. She eyes me curiously as I cross the small empty space.

"So you here to see Sherl too?" she asks with the slightest challenge in her voice.

"Uh..Sherl? You mean Sherlock?" I ask confusedly.

"Yeah. Sherlock Holmes. My tall, sexy, boyfriend, well maybe fiancé. I don't quite remember what happened." she says with a laugh and a motion to her head. I decide to ignore her ridiculous pet name and her reference to their relationship.

"That looks like it hurts." I say with all the sympathy I can muster.

"It does. Got knocked in the head. They kept me overnight for observation." she replies but says nothing else. Just looks at me. The silence is bordering on awkward when she speaks.

"Don't I know you from somewhere?"

"Um. Yes. I was at John and Mary's wedding."

"Oh yeah, with the meat dagger guy." She says with a smile, all hostility melting away.

Just then a passing nurse stops and turns to me.

"Dr. Hooper?" I look up and recognize Garrett. Who worked at St. Barts until six months ago.

"Garrett. How ya been?" I ask glad to avoid a conversation about Tom.

We discuss Garrett's new job and our mutual acquaintances. I am grateful he doesn't notice my missing ring. Eventually he leaves with a smile and a wave.

"You're Dr. Hooper?" Janine asks as soon as Garrett turns away. "The one keeping Sherl out all hours with work and lab results." Sherlock hasn't been in the lab for the last month but I feel it would be a mistake to correct Janine. So I just nod my head.

"I have gotten quite cross with him because of you. Just last Friday we were supposed to go to a jazz club, you know how Sherl loves jazz, and he had to cancel because of your lab results." I struggle to hide my confusion. I didn't meet with Sherlock last Friday and I know that Sherlock hates jazz.

"Uh…" I begin but she cuts me off.

"Oh its' okay. He made it up to me with tickets to Les Miserables. The man certainly knows how to grovel." she smiles and I smile back. But I am smiling because I know how much Sherlock hates musical theatre. I wonder if he bought the tickets knowing he would never be attending?

"That's the thing about men like Sherlock. You can't let them ever get too comfortable, they get comfortable, and then they get bored. My motto is to catch the man, keep him guessing, and then decide if you like him enough to keep him." she winks at me and I can't help the little giggle that escapes. Janine is clearly a woman who can take care of herself. Despite myself I think I like her. She has an easy, sexy, confidence and the ability to put you at ease. Qualities I am always wishing I had. I silently hope that Sherlock won't break her heart.

"So are you keeping Sherlock?" I ask.

"Ah. I might do. I might do." she smiles mischievously but then turns serious. "He is a very sweet man, a fantastic listener, very attentive and all that. Plus we like a lot of the same things." Sherlock definitely put in a lot of effort "cultivating" Janine. I can't help but wonder how much of it was work and how much of it he actually enjoyed.

"He is a bit…different, but he is a pretty great boyfriend. It's just…well." she looks around conspiratorially and leans closer. "He is a bloody awful kisser." she whispers.

I raise my eyebrows in surprise because my experience kissing Sherlock was exactly the opposite. I would classify him as a fantastic kisser.

"No." I say. Janine nods.

"Oh yes. It's like he read a book on how to kiss and just follows it; follows it to the letter." she laments. I wrinkle my nose.

"That sounds awful." I reply.

"I know! I can't even imagine how the sex will be!" she says with a grin. I stop myself from asking the burning question that has popped into my head. But Janine guesses my thoughts

"There just hasn't been a right time. What with his cases and all. Well I don't need to be telling you how busy he's been!" I nod but my brain is spinning. Maybe Sherlock wasn't quite as despicable as I thought. Using fake cases and lab results to get out of taking the fake relationship too far seemed almost noble. Next to me Janine sighs.

"He bought me a ring. We've been dating for a month! The daft man. I like him well enough but I think he might be more attached than I am. Ya know?" Feeling a bit like a bobble head I nod once again.

"Relationships where one is more keen than the other never turn out well…." I don't hear anything else because behind her shoulder I see John and Mary walking towards us. When they notice me and Janine sitting there they stop and hold a brief conference. They both look agitated but seem to come to a quick agreement. I refocus on Janine.

"I will probably wait to talk to him till he is out of hospital. Let him down easy." she is saying. I interrupt.

"Oh here comes John and Mary." I stand up and so does Janine.

"How is he?" Janine speaks first.

"He is doing just fine. Everything is fine." John replies then turns to me. "Molly. Will you come with me?" I bend down to collect my bag

"Molly!? You're Molly?" Janine asks in disbelief.

"Yes. Dr. Molly Hooper." I reply.

"But…you..." She looks at John and Mary and doesn't finish her thought. Mary speaks up.

"Janine. Why don't we go get a coffee?" she says gently. Janine only nods, a curious expression on her face, and allows herself to be led away.

"Poor woman." John mutters from beside me.

"She has no idea that Sherlock was only dating her to get into the office." I say. John looks a little taken aback.

"How do you? Nevermind. Doesn't matter." he shakes his head "She doesn't know. She was knocked out when we got there. Then Sherlock got shot and all hell broke loose. I think she just assumed that Sherlock was caught in the wrong place at the wrong time."

"Someone's got to tell her." I say.

"Yeah. That's what Mary is doing right now." he replies. I sigh in sympathy for Mary.

John blows out a puff of air and rubs his face.

"So are you ready to see him?" he asks.

"Yes. But I don't think he'll want to see me." I reply nervously. John looks surprised.

"Well he's been saying your name. Come on." he tilts his head and starts walking. Leaving me no choice but to follow him.

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><p><strong>There you go! Hope you enjoyed it! I am doing my own thing with Janine so let me know what you think. Oh and as for the sex thing. It isn't entirely clear but from their hospital scene I think it is implied that they didn't. Be back soon!<strong>


	2. Chapter 2

My mind feels clearer. The anesthesia must be wearing off. I test my mental faculties by counting types of tobacco ash. I can only remember 10. My mind is unable to provide the other 230. Clearly I am not functioning at my optimal output. They must be giving me something for the pain. Why would I be in pain? I wonder.

Slowly I can make out voices in the room. None of them seem familiar. They are discussing me. I hear "entry wound" and "blood loss". Then I remember the gunshot and Mary. I vaguely think about signaling to the doctors that I am awake only to realize that I am still hovering underneath the surface of consciousness. Before I can drag myself up they are gone.

I lie still, feeling the sun pouring onto my face, warming me slowly. The antiseptic scent of the hospital fills my nose and reminds me of St. Barts. My memory shows me Molly and I smile, then frown. She is angry. I struggle to remember why Molly is angry with me. I recall the sting of her hand on my face but that memory includes John and Mary and is somehow mixed with thoughts of being shot. This memory is just me and Molly in the morgue. Another scene invades and I feel Molly's lips on mine, her breath hot against my cheeks. It is a nice memory and I don't struggle to replace it. I let myself drift with it and slip out of consciousness once again.

At some point the darkness is pierced by Molly's voice. I smile with warmth as she appears before me in her lab coat.

"...Janine is a very nice girl. I don't care if it was for a case. You shouldn't have manipulated her." she is scolding me.

"I don't like it when you are angry with me. And besides Janine isn't that nice." I reply defensively. Molly only stares back at me disapprovingly. I feel an inexplicable wave of affection for her that fills my chest with warmth.

"You are a nice girl, probably too nice." I pause and consider my words. "I am not a nice person."

"No you are not a nice person." Molly replies and I can see the smile in her voice. I smile back at her.

"But you still love me." I say confidently.

"Yes. I do." she replies quietly.

"That's good." I say. "I think I love you too." The words feel correct but my brain is suddenly fuzzy. So I say "Maybe. I will have to ask John. He understands that stuff."

Molly shakes her head and laughs, her voice ringing off the halls of my mind.

"You should sleep." she says. I nod, neglecting to tell her that I am already asleep. But the darkness is already reclaiming me and I sigh as I drift away once again.

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><p>As Sherlock's breathing becomes deep and regular I continue to stare at him in shock. He never opened his eyes; for all I know he was asleep the entire time. I checked his chart when I came in, he is on some heavy medication. I know drugs make people say crazy things and I should dismiss everything I just heard. But the secret part of my heart where I keep my love for Sherlock securely hidden is clamoring at me. It tells me that people under medication don't lie; if anything they tend to be extremely truthful. My smarter, more logical side reminds me that people under medication are also delusional. If Sherlock had just told me about leprechauns that were trying to shave his head I wouldn't be trying to justify it as the truth.<p>

I sigh, thinking of the goofy smile he wore when he said "I think I love you too." I know, no matter how hard I try to rationalize it away, that memory will stay bright and clear until the day I die.

I stand, looking down into his beautifully calm face. Years ago, when my crush on him was almost painful, Sherlock would disappear into his mind palace and I would study his face. Memorizing every feature with the hunger of a starved woman. Knowing it was my only chance to look without him looking back. I used to marvel at how placid his features appeared. But now, seeing him in a blissful sleep, I realize that even in his mind palace he was guarded. Now he looked truly vulnerable but also at peace.

I brush a lock of hair off his forehead and lean down to leave a kiss in it's place. As I straighten I hear the door open. I turn to see Mary motioning me out of the room. She closes the door behind me.

"He say anything?" she asks.

"Not really. Just nonsense. I think he is still pretty out of it." I reply, hoping she doesn't notice the blush that has crept over my face.

"Yeah, he is. It's pretty weird seeing him like that. Doctors said they need to keep him heavily medicated for the pain. So I wouldn't listen to anything he says for awhile." I nod her words echoing what I have already told myself. I look at Mary and notice how tired and stressed she looks. I give her a sympathetic look.

"How did things go with Janine?" I ask.

"Actually better than expected. She is furious, of course, but I think her pride is more wounded than her heart. Long run, she will be fine. Especially once she enacts her revenge." She replies with a rueful look.

"Well I don't blame her. It's a horrible thing to be used like that." I say a little to strongly. Mary looks at me questioningly.

"I suppose. But Sherlock had his reasons."

"Sherlock always has his reasons" I reply back unable to keep the bitterness from my voice.

"Look Molly. The man Sherlock was after is a truly vile human being. He destroys lives." I can't believe Mary is defending Sherlock. I don't know her well and I don't want to argue but I can't stop myself.

"But Janine is just an innocent bystander! He just used her. Played with her like some toy just to get what he wanted." Mary holds up a placating hand.

"Wait a minute Molly. Janine is hardly an innocent. She has a pretty good idea what her boss gets up too. She ignores the things he does and in return she gets a large paycheck and bragging rights. She isn't a bad person but she isn't really a nice person."

"Oh." I say. Surprised to hear Mary echoing Sherlock and that I hadn't thought of that before. I was so busy identifying with Janine and feeling angry with Sherlock for manipulating her (and me). That it didn't occur to me that Janine and I aren't really the same person. I think back to the conversation I had with her. Reviewing it I notice her lack of concern about Sherlock's health. The way she seemed proud of her control over him. Maybe Sherlock knew Janine wasn't emotionally attached. Maybe Mary was right and the ends did justify the means. I can't wrap my brain around everything and and it is starting to spin with the effort.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to get upset. I think I am just tired." I say.

"It's okay. I understand." she replies. I nod and check my watch. I will need to leave soon to make it to Bart's.

"Well I need to rush off to work. Let me know if you need anything."

"Thanks. I will." she replies with a strange look. I start to walk away and then she calls out.

"Oh Molly. Do you want to know when he wakes up?" I turn back not really sure what my answer will be.

"Uh. If it's not too much trouble." I say. She nods and gives a slight wave but I can see there are questions in her eyes. I try not to think what those questions might be. I already have too many things I don't want to think about. Hopefully there were a lot of suspicious deaths last night and I can spend the day doing autopsies.

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><p><strong>Oh drugged up Sherlock is so much nicer than regular Sherlock! But it certainly is confusing for Molly! Mary helped a little. I think she makes some good points about Janine or maybe she was just defending her own actions!<br>Hope you enjoyed! I sure enjoyed writing it and of course I enjoy your thoughts and reviews. I just figured out the PM thing so I am going to start replying back! **


	3. Chapter 3

I know I am dreaming because Redbeard is here. I haven't played with him since I was a little boy but there he is fetching a stick. His energy seemingly boundless as he returns to me at full tilt. I am in a park and everything seems unnaturally bright. The grass an almost neon green and the sky clear and blue.

"Sherlock" I turn to see who is calling me and smile when I recognize Molly. She walks towards me with a smile.

"It's time to wake up. There is someone here to talk to you." she says. I attempt to protest but she looks stern. "Wake Up! "

I feel the grass and sky fading and my eyes flutter open.

I am in a hospital room. The light from the window indicates it is early morning. Cords snake from my body and monitors beep quietly. I shift my head and see John asleep in the chair next to me. I look at him and attempt to deduce. But my brain is still fuzzy and uncooperative He looks tired but he has changed his clothes, so I must have been sleeping for sometime. I notice a vase of flowers on a table behind him. The card is written in Mrs. Hudson's handwriting so clearly I have had visitors.

"You gave us quite the scare." John's voice is thick with sleep.

"Ah Yes. Sorry about that." I reply the words grating in my sore throat.

"No you're not. But don't do it again." he says sternly.

"No promises." He laughs and I smile. I start to feel tired. The small amount of brainwork and conversation is already taking it's toll. My eyes have started to close when I remember I want to ask John a question.

"John. How do you know you love…I mean are in love with someone?" John looks at me with surprise and confusion.

"What?" If I wasn't so tired and my brain wasn't so slow I would make a remark on John's intelligence. Instead I just wait for his answer, my eyes closed. After a little bit of silence he speaks.

"Well. Sherlock. It's more than just good sex or enjoying their company. I guess you love someone when you can't imagine your life without her in it. When you think more about her happiness then about your own. Because when she is happy you are happy." I nod. John isn't very intelligent but he understands people and emotions.

"But look mate." he says and I open my eyes to see him rubbing the back of his head. "Mary told Janine that you didn't care about her. That you were just using her to get to Magnusson. She is pretty angry. You may want to wait before apologizing or…" he trails off when he hears my low chuckle. I want to explain that I have no interest in Janine. In fact, I am relieved that Mary has done the difficult bit for me. But I am drifting out of consciousness and don't have time to explain. Before I fall away completely I manage to say

"Not Janine."

"What? Who then? Who are you talking about?" I hear John's voice coming from far away and I don't bother answering his question as I drift into oblivion.

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><p>I stare at the food steaming behind the glass and try to decide which looks the least disgusting. I usually bring my lunch to work but today I left it in my flat. It's just one of the many small mistakes I have made over the last few days. My mind apparently finds it difficult to function when half of it is constantly preoccupied with a certain injured detective.<p>

Even now, when I should be selecting something to eat, I find myself remembering the time Sherlock found me in this exact spot. He had wanted to see some bodies; specifically the feet of two men. I refused him at first but eventually gave in after he complimented and smiled at me. My emotions about this memory are mixed, just like my emotions about Sherlock. But before I can dwell too much there is a voice at my shoulder.

"Afternoon Molly." I turn to see the round face and glasses of Dr. Stamford. My stomach lurches and I am sure that all the color drains from my cheeks.

"Hi." I say weakly and then turn back to the food. Normally I have no problem visiting with Dr. Stamford but that was before he walked in on me and Sherlock snogging in the morgue. I have been avoiding him for the last four days but now, thanks to my distracted mind, I will have to talk to him. I select my food and then turn to him an apology on my lips. He speaks first.

"I heard about Sherlock. Bloody awful business." he shakes his head "Still I heard he is recovering nicely. So thank goodness for small favors." There is a pause while he collects his food and I decide not to say anything. Then he turns to me and asks "Are you going to see him after your shift? Give him my regards. Tell him to get better and all that." I just nod and he smiles. Any further conversation is aborted when he sees Mary across the room.

"Oh look. There is Mary. I wager she is here to talk to you about Sherlock." Stamford gives me a wink and waves at Mary. Then tells me goodbye, and heads for a table. I am so grateful that Mary saved me from having an entire lunch conversation with Dr. Stamford I don't even wonder why she is here.

I walk over to her and we both take a seat. She offers me a styrofoam cup of coffee and I take it gratefully.

"I was in the neighborhood and thought I would stop in and see how you are doing."

"Thanks! That was very thoughtful." I take a sip and then start in on my food. Mary just watches me.

"Sherlock is doing better. Still sleeping a lot but the doctors are very optimistic about his recovery."

"Oh that is good to hear." I say neutrally. I haven't visited Sherlock since that first morning. John hasn't asked me to come back and I don't want to intrude. At least that is what I tell myself. Deep down I know that I am afraid of entering that room again. Of course I have Garrett giving me regular updates about Sherlock so Mary isn't really telling me anything new.

"You are a very interesting person Molly Hooper." she says thoughtfully.

"Sorry. What?"

"It's just there is so much more to you than one might assume at first glance."

"Oh. Well can't you say that about anybody?" I reply not sure where this conversation is going and wondering if it would have been better to eat with Dr. Stamford.

"Not really. Most people are pretty straightforward. You know, John told me that when he first met you he thought you were just some lovestruck pathologist that Sherlock had charmed."

"Well..er…that's interesting." I say feeling genuinely uncomfortable.

She leans towards me.

"He knows know that you are so much more than that. You helped Sherlock fake his death. You help him solve his cases. That takes intelligence, courage, strength and patience." I swallow my food awkwardly.

"Yeah I guess so."

"Sorry. " Mary shakes her head with a smile and squeezes my arm. "I wasn't trying to embarrass you. I was just thinking…I have a bet going with John that after Sherlock faked his death he had to hide somewhere. John says Mycroft took care of him but I think he holed up with you." I am relieved that the conversation has moved away from a critique on my personality. Talking about Sherlock's fake death and hiding places is much safer territory. I smile back at Mary.

"He uses my place off and on to hide. Just the spare bedroom, well, my bedroom." I admit and then try to explain; "We agreed he needs the space." I take another sip of coffee. "He just, likes my room better, something about the light." Mary just grins back like she completely understands the difficulty of dealing with Sherlock. I suddenly wonder why Mary and I aren't friends. She seems kind and intelligent; we would probably get on. Plus, she understands and likes Sherlock so we could compare notes. Maybe she could provide some insight to my current emotional quagmire. I am in desperate need of advice.

I think carefully. Trying to figure out how to approach the subject.

"Oh is that the time?" Mary looks up at the clock on the far wall. "I have to dash."

"Oh. Okay." I say with disappointment.

"Look. You should come by and see Sherlock. Give John a break. He is worried about Sherlock waking up alone. Feels bad about, well about everything. The drugs, the shooting, getting married, leaving Sherlock and all that."

"Uh. Sure. I could drop by. Maybe tonight after my shift."

"Great! I will tell John. Thanks!" she says before rushing off. Leaving me to wonder why I had just agreed to go to the one place I wanted most to avoid.

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><p><strong>That Mary, pretty darn clever. I wanted to work those lines from the episode in, plus Molly needed a push to get her back to the hospital. Avoidance much? And poor John, Sherlock is so hard to keep up with! Hope you enjoyed. I am super excited about the next chapter! Stay tuned. <strong>


	4. Chapter 4

As I walk into the Royal London Hospital I had every intention of going straight to Sherlock's room. It is the middle of the night and given Sherlock's medication, I am hoping he won't be awake. I am not sure I can handle talking to him just yet. I am still angry but underneath that anger is a feeling of betrayal and uncertainty. Four days ago when I agreed to be Sherlock's girlfriend I had felt so sure of Sherlock's affection but I don't feel that anymore and I wonder if I will ever be able to again. These feelings of confusion are compounded when, while walking past the waiting area, I spot a newspaper with Sherlock's face and the title "Shag-a-lot Holmes". I can't help myself, I pick up the paper and sit down.

Just skimming the front page I can tell the story is complete bollocks. This must be what Mary meant by Janine's revenge. It's a very public way to get back at Sherlock. I can't decide if I am impressed, jealous, or scandalized. I must have been staring into space as I try to process because I don't even notice the older lady until she starts talking to me.

"Sorry. Can I sit here?" I look up in surprise and then over at the seat next to me.

"Yes. Of course." I say as I hastily remove my bag. The paper slips from my hands in the process and she bends down to pick it up. She frowns at the cover.

"Isn't that just disgusting. Since when did a person's private life become front page news?" she is indignant and I feel slightly embarrassed at having the paper.

"It is pretty sad that they couldn't find anything better to talk about." I reply. She nods and then her hand covers her mouth as she yawns widely. It is such a ladylike gesture that I can't help but smile. She smiles back.

"Excuse me! I am over-tired. Just flew in from America and came straight here. My body is confused about what time it is."

"Oh I understand. I work odd hours. I am constantly resetting my body clock."

"I guess that explains why we are both here at this ungodly hour." she says pleasantly before delicately yawning again.

"I am Minerva but you can just call me Minnie."

"I'm Molly." I say.

"Well Molly. What brings you here? Nothing serious I hope?"

"No. Just visiting a friend. He's recovering from surgery. What about you?"

"I am here to see my son."

"I see. Is it serious?" I ask politely.

"I am told it was quite serious but he is doing fine now."

"Oh. Well that is good. Is that why you came from America?" I ask.

"Yes. We were on holiday. We would have been here sooner but Mike, that's my oldest, didn't tell us until it was all over." She sighed. "I love my boys but they just don't understand a mother's heart." I smile at her. Despite her long trip her clothes and hair are neat. She is dressed stylishly but very understated. She has a kind smile and a charming disposition. She seems wise and motherly and I find myself drawn to her.

"Do you have children? Oh no you are too young for that. But you do have a special someone." I grin at the way she answers her own question and makes what should be a question into a statement. It reminds me of Sherlock.

"I had a fiancé actually but not anymore. He was a great guy but I... well I guess I didn't love him enough." realizing what I just said I feel embarrassed. "Sorry. You don't want to hear about that." Minnie grabs my hand and gives it a reassuring squeeze.

"I would love to hear about it, dear. You look like you need to talk. And I need a distraction from my own worries." I look into her pale blue-green eyes and feel the sudden need to tell her everything. Maybe because I have been holding everything in for days, or maybe it is the anonymity of telling a complete stranger but either way words begin to force themselves out of my mouth.

Before I know it I am explaining everything to her. I don't use names and I avoid details; I refer to Sherlock as a cop and Janine as an undercover assignment. But I am absolutely honest about my thoughts and emotions. A good ten minutes pass with Minnie only nodding and making sympathetic noises. Eventually I come to the conclusion and the heart of my emotional turmoil.

"So because I know he lied so easily to her, I can't help but think that he could be lying to me. I just don't know how to trust him and that is difficult because I used to trust him completely." I stop and look at Minnie pleading silently for her to tell me what to do.

"Oh dear. This is a bit of a mess." She says. I wipe at some tears that have sneaked down my cheeks and nod. She touches my shoulder gently and I am so grateful for her compassion.

"Can I ask, have you always had difficulty trusting men?" Her question makes me stop and think. I had an excellent relationship with my father and I never had trust issues before. But that was before "Jim from IT".

"I didn't when I was younger but a few years back I dated….well he was an actual psychopath. Incredibly charming and incredibly deceptive. He was a fantastic boyfriend and I really liked him. But it turned out he was just faking it, just manipulating me for his own sick game. I completely misjudged him."

"Ah. And you are worried that you are making the same mistake again?"

"Yes. I guess I am."

"Well is this man a psychopath?" she asks with a smile.

"I don't think he is. He actually refers to himself as a high-functioning sociopath. But I think that is more wishful thinking than an accurate diagnosis. He does have a really low emotional IQ and an almost pathological need to be the smartest person in the room." At my response Minnie's eyes narrow, as if I have said something wrong. There is a pause and then she clears her throat.

"But you love him despite all that has happened and despite his…ah…high-functioning sociopathy?"

I nod, not willing to trust my voice.

"Well my dear you have a very difficult decision. I understand your feeling of betrayal and reluctance to be manipulated again. Perhaps that is why you chose to marry someone that you didn't feel very passionate about. It was a way to protect yourself. However you can't live the rest of your life trying to protect your heart because that road leads to loneliness. All love is a risk. Whenever we trust another person with our heart there is a chance they will break it. But there is also a chance that they will love us back." she pauses and looks me in the eyes. "The risk is worth the reward. I promise."

I want her to be right. I stare into her pale blue-green eyes and they are full of sincerity. I have an odd sense of deja vu, as if I have looked into her eyes before. I smile.

"Thanks. I needed to hear that." I say. She smiles back and wraps me in a firm hug; then pulls away with a start.

"Oh there is Mikey. I better go see what is going on." I turn to catch sight of her son and my body goes cold. Minnie doesn't seem to notice as she jumps up to gather her things. She looks down at me with a kind smile and eyes I suddenly recognize.

"I hope everything works out. Maybe I will see you again someday and you can tell me all about it. Good Luck! And be brave Molly!" then she turns and heads towards her son who is in deep conversation with a doctor.

I watch her go with disbelieve and a growing embarrassment. When she reaches Mycroft, or "Mikey" I am gripped by fear. Fear that Mycroft will recognize me and somehow Minnie will discover that I was talking about her son, Sherlock. I jump out of my chair and hurry out of the waiting area. I head for the exit. There is no way I will be visiting Sherlock while Minnie is around.

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><p><strong>Sorry that you had to hear from Molly again. Sherlock is mostly sleeping at the moment... How did you like Mother Holmes? How soon did you know it was her? I tried to give you clues. She definitely gave her son his eyes, seriously go check out some pictures. Also, I gave her the name, in HLV we see her initials as M.L. I thought Minerva fit. <strong>

**As always thanks for all your lovely thoughts and reviews. **


	5. Chapter 5

The room is dark again. I have no idea how much time has past since my last bout of consciousness. Judging by the light, probably half the night. Time has become such a strange concept in this room, impossible to mark and equally hard to care about. The morphine isn't helping with it's double hit of euphoria and exhaustion. My few waking moments are full of short conversations when someone is in the room or idle deductions when I am alone. This time I feel a sense of dread and danger; half-remembered images flash before my eyes and I know I am missing something or someone. Before I can properly try and remember I hear voices outside my door.

"Now Mikey be quiet. I don't want you waking him." I recognize the alto of Mother's voice.

"I hardly think I will be the one to wake him." comes my brother's sarcastic response. I smile at the exchange and vaguely wonder where father is. Then I hear him stand up from the chair next to me and go to the door. He opens it slightly

"Shhhh… both of you." he scolds. This causes me to chuckle.

"See what you did." Mother cries. I can't see or hear Mycroft but I know he just rolled his eyes.

"Well are you coming in?" I call thickly. The door opens wide as Mother comes bustling in, trailed by Mycroft who turns on the lights. I blink in the blinding white of the florescence.

"Oh my poor boy." Mother exclaims at the sight of me. I can't help but smile. Normally her maternal affection leaves me frustrated and embarrassed but the drugs must be making me more emotional. She places her cool hand on my cheek and tucks my hair behind my ear.

"Your color is very good. Father don't you think his color is good?" she asks nervously and doesn't wait for an answer. She continues to talk but I am too tired to focus on her words. Instead I watch her facial expressions, fascinated by how much worry and love she is able to convey just with her eyes and forehead. But even contemplating that much becomes too taxing and I fall back asleep.

I awake to the grey light of pre-dawn. My head still fuzzy but clearer than before. I feel a weight on my hand and glance over to see Mother dozing in the chair beside me, her hand resting on mine. I watch her quietly. Struck by how much love I feel burning in my heart and the tears that spring to my eyes. Her eyelids flutter open and when her eyes focus on me she smiles. I smile back and she squeezes my hand.

"Awake again are we?" she says happily. "Mike wanted me to leave but I wanted to talk with you. Probably would have gone home if I'd known you would sleep all night. She yawns, covering her mouth delicately.

"Sorry to inconvenience you." I say.

"Oh it's no bother. I am happy you are getting your rest." she rises from her chair "Do you need anything? Shall I call the nurse?"

I shake my head. "Just sit." I say a little gruffly. She sits but I can tell she is restless.

"You have some lovely flowers and this room is very nice." she is babbling. I sigh. She stops talking and looks at me.

"You are not a sociopath." she suddenly bursts out.

"Excuse me?" I ask, confused by the turn in the conversation.

"I raised you. Whatever your emotional issues might be you are not a sociopath or a psychopath. And it bothers me that you tell people you are a sociopath." she speaks emphatically and I know better than to contradict her.

"Ok." I reply. And she nods curtly.

"Good. Glad that is settled. Now I want to talk to you about women."

"Don't you think I am a little old for that conversation." I ask with a grin but she isn't amused.

"You need to be careful with the way you treat women. You are breaking hearts." I blink in confusion

"Mummy. I promise no one is broken hearted over me. I barely have friends let alone a string of jilted lovers. People tolerate me but they don't really like me." I protest. She only shakes her head and sighs.

"I thought so." she says.

My head is starting to hurt. I can't understand what Mother is on about but I feel guilty. She is clearly disappointed in me and I don't understand why. My guilt is rapidly turning into indignation and I can't help snapping at her.

"Thought what? What exactly have I done?"

"William Sherlock Scott Holmes." she snaps back. "You are loved. Look at these flowers, these are from people who care about you. I know you think that your personality makes you unlovable but that, my dear, is simply not true. Nice girls fall in love with you and you hurt them because you don't recognize it."

"I fail to understand the relevance of this conversation." I say retreating into my formal reserve and trying to ignore the flush of embarrassment that is creeping up my face.

"It's relevant because I don't want you to be alone. And you will continue to push people away if you continue to cling to this silly notion that no one can love you." she takes my hand and squeezes. "I am the first to admit that you are different and maybe a little hard to love at times. But that doesn't mean that a woman can't love you." I don't know how to respond. I am not sure what information Mother has or why she felt the need to talk about this. It feels like an attack when I am already weak and I can't help the argument that comes out.

"You only say that because you are my Mother. My experience has taught me that the majority of people either fear me or hate me. It is the rare individual that can manage to like the real me. I think love is asking a little much." I reply, unable to keep the bitterness out of my voice. She sighs.

"Oh Sherlock. That just isn't true." she touches my face gently "But I see I won't convince you. Just promise me you will be more mindful of the effect you have on women." I give her a curt nod. "And that you won't reject the possibility that someone could love you for who you are. True love is loving someone despite their faults. Someday you will find that. I promise. And when you do, don't be scared. Let yourself love her back." She smiles and places a kiss on my forehead. "Now go back to sleep. You need your rest."

I am feeling tired and sleep would be an excellent way to avoid thinking about what Mother has just said. So I sigh and let my eyes close. I hear her collect her things and as she walks across the room I whisper.

"I love you Mummy." She pauses and responses quietly.

"I love you Sherlock."

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><p><strong>So I guess the better question is when did Mrs. Holmes realize Molly was talking about Sherlock? <strong>  
><strong>I just love the family dynamic they created in Series 3. So many crime solving shows remove the families and I think that is a mistake.<strong>  
><strong>I hope you enjoyed this motherson moment. Hopefully Sherlock still felt in character. I think everyone is a bit more honest and vulnerable with family/those they are closest too. I have always felt a lot of the way Sherlock acts are defense mechanisms. So this is his Mummy trying to help break those down. **

**Leave a review if you like. They always make me happy!**


	6. Chapter 6

**Yay! This story got a 100 followers! So here is an early chapter to celebrate!**

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><p>I am beginning to hate the sound of the doors at this hospital. I swear they are mocking is the fourth time in the last hour that I have almost walked inside, almost. Last night, after running from the Holmes family, sleep alluded me as I struggled to make a decision. Minnie told me to take a risk because it would be worth the reward. My head argued that with Sherlock there would be no reward. Then my heart fought back with memories of all the times I felt valued and respected by Sherlock. Adding the memories from the last week on a slow replay. The kisses, the awkward invitation to be his girlfriend and his drug induced "I love you." all proved that there were rewards with Sherlock.<p>

But the stark fact remained that his fake relationship with Janine called all of those memories into question. Brought up the ghost of Jim and the possibility that Sherlock was just playing with me. The questions swirled around and around; keeping me awake. With dawn I came to the realization that the only way to solve this was to actually talk to Sherlock. I resolved to go back to the hospital and then managed to get a little bit of sleep.

Now, standing outside the hospital, I once again turn around. I need more time to think through what to say.

"Molly?" I hear an unfamiliar voice call. I turn and I am shocked to see Janine walking towards me.

"Oh. Hello." I say unsure what to say.

"Are you here to see Sherl…Sherlock?" she asks with a smile.

"Uh" I murmur, surprised she had gone to visit

"It's fine. He is alone at the moment and very awake. I may have turned down his morphine so I could talk to him."

"Oh." I realize she must still be focused on revenge if she fiddled with his drugs.

"He deserves worse." She says with a frown. Compassion wells up in my heart and I impulsively hug her. Then just as quickly jump away.

"Sorry. I just…he shouldn't have treated you that way, no matter his reason. It was wrong. I know how it feels to be lied to, to be manipulated, to think someone cares when they don't. Nobody deserves that. And he is horrible for doing it to you." I speak forcefully and have a hard time looking her in the eye. She reaches out and squeezes my shoulder.

"You're sweet. Thank you. You know if you want to get revenge on Sherlock I can help you. It does wonders for the anger."

"Thanks but it wasn't Sherlock. It was someone else." I say.

"Ah. Well I would help either way!" She grins and I find myself grinning back.

"Well I got to dash. It was nice running into you."

"You too." I reply. She turns and takes a few steps and then turns back.

"Look Molly. I am probably over-stepping but you seem like a genuinely nice person and you should understand what happened." she pauses, seeming to consider her next words. "The man I work for is a monster. He destroys people without a thought, all because he enjoys the power."

"Why do you work for him then?" I ask.

"Cause he knows my pressure point." She says it with a shrug of the shoulders that seems to hide a deeper emotion and then continues. "What I am trying to say is that I understand why Sherlock wants to bring him down. Obviously I don't agree with his methods. If he had been honest with me I probably would have helped him. But he didn't trust me and I can't really blame him for that. Trust is a rare commodity. What I am saying is that what Sherlock did to me probably isn't the same as what was done to you." she lets out a sigh. I don't know why she is sharing this information with me but my heart already feels lighter.

"Thank you for telling me that. But I am still sorry you got caught in the middle."

"Me too." she replies and is momentarily lost in thought. "Molly. I probably shouldn't tell you this either. But I think it will piss Sherl off." she gives a wicked smile. "When I heard your first name I was surprised because Sherlock talked about Dr. Hooper all the time. In reference to his work and when he told stories of his cases. But the only time I heard the name "Molly" were the few times we slept in the same bed. He says your name in his sleep." I can't hide the shock I feel. My face must be hilarious because she laughs.

"I thought Molly was an old girlfriend. Imagine my surprise when I discovered that the much praised Dr. Hooper was also the mysterious Molly." I don't know what to say and Janine doesn't seem to expect an answer. She only smiles.

"I really do need to run. But make sure you tell him I told you!" She pulls me into a quick hug before turning and rushing away.

I take a few dazed steps along the sidewalk. Suddenly I hear the whoosh of the automatic doors. They sound very welcoming and I step inside the hospital.

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><p>"I know what kind of man ya' are, but we could have been friends." and with that Janine walks out of the room and hopefully out of my life. I grimace at the pain in my side but keep the morphine turned down. My mind feels so clear and for now the desire to think is stronger than the pain. I look down at the papers. I feel oddly happy that Janine got her revenge and got rich in the process. Everything seems to have worked out.<p>

I was surprised at her final words. Did she really think we could have been friends? The idea conjures the images of my conversation with Mother. Is it really possible I broke Janine's heart? She certainly didn't seem very heart broken. But then again I am not the most reliable interpreter of how people feel about me. I thought Mary had a certain affection for me but then she shot me. I discard my confusion about Janine and enter my mind palace.

I recall all that I know about Mary and try to piece together her real identity. I vaguely remember Mary warning me not to talk to John and this adds to my confusion. If she is worried about John learning her secret why hasn't she just killed me? It's a puzzle I clearly don't have enough information to solve. The only thing I know for certain is that, once again, I will be breaking John's heart.

I wonder if there is any good way to deliver this information. I have been informed, by multiple people, that I am not sensitive with bad news. I clearly botched telling John I was alive, I don't want to repeat my mistake.

I will need to consult with someone who understands emotions, someone who I can also trust with this delicate information. Unbidden Molly appears in my mind, a wry smile on her face. I smile back, she will be perfect. Then I frown as I try to remember if Molly has come to visit me. All I can recall are fuzzy conversations with her in my mind palace.

Perhaps she hasn't visited. I know we parted on bad terms but surely my near death would be a good enough reason to lift my banishment. Her absence feels like a blow to my stomach and I can't help but hope that she has visited while I slept. I open my eyes and look at the flowers around the room. Trying to identify where they came from; perhaps Molly sent some. Then the desperation of what I am doing hits me and I stop. If she doesn't want to see me then I don't need to see her. I close my eyes in defeat and lower my bed.

One of the newspapers Janine left slips to the ground with a crinkle. In frustration I kick my legs and listen as the rest fall.

"Oh. Let me get those." I missed the sound of the door opening but I know exactly who owns that voice. My eyes fly open and I am startled by the rush of warmth that floods my body at the sight of her.

Clearly the drugs are not completely out of my system.

I watch as she bends down and picks up the papers. Her cheeks color slightly at the headlines and I have the sudden desire to tell her they are lies. She holds one up for my inspection.

"That's a really good picture of you. I can feel your disdain." she grins and I smile back.

"And that's my good side." I joke.

"Oh you have a bad side?" she says, placing the papers in a neat pile near the flowers.

"I think you know I have many bad sides." I reply but I am not joking anymore. I see her shoulder rise and fall as she takes a deep breath before turning around to face me. I am relieved to see that she is still smiling. Although this one is small and a little sad.

"I am not really sure what I know about you." she speaks softly and looks steadily into my eyes. I feel exposed. I look away and down at my bare chest suddenly aware of my lack of shirt. The silence grows and nervously I look back up. She is still staring at me. I feel the need to fill the silence.

"They aren't true. The stories. Janine made them all up."

She nods. "I know."

"Oh." I reply and the room goes silent again. I wish the morphine was turned up so I could drift back into sleep. Why doesn't she talk? Molly is usually full of conversation. She seems to be waiting for me to say something but I don't know what it could possibly be. I hate not knowing and the frustration is beginning to build.

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><p><strong>I know, I know YOU are the one frustrated now! <strong>

**I think Magnusson really did have something on Janine. He was the kind of guy to want power over everyone. Plus in the final scene he talks about flicking her eyeball! No way she lets him do that just cause he is her boss! I think that is partly why she wasn't too angry with Sherlock. Anyways hope you enjoyed the chapter! Should only be one or two left!**


	7. Chapter 7

I stand there staring at him. I try to avoid looking at his bare chest or linger on the way his hair is casually tangled. I used to think he spent hours making sure his hair looked disheveled but now I see that it is just naturally adorable. There are so many little things I know and so many things I don't know about Sherlock. The possibility that I have missed more than his hair styling regime looms large in my mind. But then I hear Minnie telling me to be brave and Mary telling me I have strength and finally I hear Sherlock whispering "I think I love you too." So I throw caution to the wind and begin the speech I came here to give.

"Sherlock." I take a step closer and sit down in the chair beside his bed. "I am going to talk and I want you to listen." He nods a look of curiosity crossing his features.

"You are rude. You don't play well with others. Your apartment is a disaster area. You either don't understand or don't care how your actions affect the people you care about. You are demanding and constantly making me help you with your experiments and projects. You are secretive. You don't let other people in. The majority of the things I have learned about you came from observation not from you sharing. You have no problem lying and manipulating others when you think you are justified. You are easily, the most infuriating man I have ever met." I have been staring at the blanket and his hand lying there. Now I pause to look at his face. It is blank and unreadable. His walls are firmly in place and I begin to wonder if I have made a mess of everything.

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><p>When Molly asked me to listen I didn't think she was going to list all my bad qualities. I have no defense to give. I know what kind of man I am. With every word I feel more and more sure that Molly has come only to reiterate her intention to cut me out of her life. The last time she attempted this I refused. I asked her to be my girlfriend, I practically begged her not to banish me. But it didn't work. At the first reveal of new information she kicked me out of the morgue. I am determined that when she banishes me this time I will say goodbye and promptly delete her from my memory. Mycroft is right, caring is not an advantage. Idly I wish that Mother was here so she could hear how throughly intolerable even the generous, long-suffering, Molly Hooper finds me.<p>

Suddenly I feel her hand gripping mine. I look down in surprise. The contact sending waves of sensation and confusing my resolve to be stoic. Embarrassingly I hear my heart rate monitor begin to beep faster.

Molly smiles a soft smile and continues talking.

"You are also a loyal friend. You spend your life solving puzzles that help others. You are funny and you laugh at my jokes. You never ask me to be more or less than I am. You respect me and listen to my opinions. You are surprisingly good with kids. And obviously you are brilliant and mind-blowingly fit." She grins at this last bit and her eyes find mine.

"For all of these things and many more I fell in love with you." I am speechless. This is not the direction I expected this conversation to go. It isn't the fact of Molly's love that astonishes me. I have known for a long time that she fancied me. It is her honest and frank assessment of my character. I always thought that emotion blinded you to the flaws of others. But Molly seems well aware of exactly who I am and loves me despite of it. I don't know how to respond and I know that whatever I say will probably be the wrong thing.

"Molly. I…" she shakes her head.

"I am not done."

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><p>I take another deep breath and launch into the more difficult part of the conversation. "I love you but I don't know if I can trust you. When I met Jim…I mean Moriarty." Sherlock's eyes widen at the name and I look down focusing on the warmth of his hand in mine. "When I met him I was very lonely. I was in love with you and all you ever did was manipulate me for favors." his hand tenses under mine. "Yes. I knew you were flirting with me just so I would help you. Sometimes I would refuse just to get some more fake compliments."<p>

"They weren't fake." he protests. I look up at him and cock my head.

"Really?" I ask

"I was trying to get you to help me but I never made up compliments. I just voiced my more favorable observations." I can't help but grin.

"Well I thought they were fake compliments. And I hated myself and I hated the way I always gave into you. Then one night I met Jim for coffee. He was funny, he complimented me because he liked me, he was interested in my life. I felt valued. I felt like I had discovered something precious and beautiful in the midst of my loneliness." I sigh at the memory.

"But Molly he was using you. He only wanted to learn about me, to get close to me." Sherlock speaks through clenched teeth. I blink at the tears in my eyes. "I know that now. But then it felt so real."

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><p>I didn't think I could despise Moriarty any more, but watching Molly cry I feel hate blazing in my chest. I also feel guilt at the role I played in pushing Molly into his way. I raise my hand to her cheek and wipe at her tears with the pad of my thumb. I wonder what I can say or do, she smiles at my gesture and covers my hand with hers and pulls it away. She wipes her eyes and takes a deep breath.<p>

"When I am with you it feels so real. I think that you really care about me. That you trust me and value my opinion. When you kiss me…well" a pretty blush comes over her face "it's bloody brilliant." I smile but she doesn't smile back she just shakes her head.

"But I am afraid that this is Jim all over again. That you are just manipulating me because you need me for cases." she doesn't look at me.

"Molly. I would never do that to you. I…" but she doesn't let me finish.

"You just did the exact same thing to Janine. You convinced her you cared, you lied to her, you used her to get to Magnusson. You acted just like Moriarty." Molly's words echo in my head. When I embarked on my liaison with Janine I never once considered that I was taking a page from Moriarty's play book. In retrospect I can see that Jim and The Woman gave me the inspiration for my plan. It helped that Janine was clearly attracted to me. But Janine wasn't seriously attached to me-well not the real me. She may have liked the grinning, groveling, version of me that I presented to her. There is little chance that once I returned to my normal self she would have stuck around. But wasn't that Molly's point, that I lied and manipulated Janine became what she wanted so I could get what I wanted. It is logical to think I lie to and manipulate Molly for similar reasons. I turn my head and try to process the information again. Hoping to arrive at a different conclusion. Molly is quiet, letting me think in silence.

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><p><strong>Phew! Hope you didn't get whiplash from the shifting POVs. Hopefully it made the scene better, not confusing. <strong>

**Well Molly confronted him and I think she did a pretty good job. Now lets hope Sherlock gives the response she deserves! (Of course he will. This is a romance not an angst!). One chapter left so get your reviews in now before it's too late. =)**


	8. Chapter 8

Sherlock is lost in thought. I am surprised. I honestly thought he would immediately jump in and try to defend himself. Instead he blinked, a lot, and then turned his head. I am wondering if he has fallen asleep when he stirs. His eyes focus on mine.

"You are not Janine. I admit that I have used compliments to get your help. But I do care about you and I do trust you. Even if you never helped me with another case I would still want you in my life, and not just for the kissing." he gives a little smirk and continues "As for Janine, I have no defense. I didn't think of her feelings. I thought only of how to achieve my goal." his response comes in clipped and measured words. "I am aware that I have the capacity to be Moriarty. Thank you for bringing this particular likeness to my attention."

"You aren't Moriarty." I exclaim. And it's only when I say the words out loud that I feel the truth of them. "Please, Sherlock. Don't ever think you are Moriarty." I see in his eyes that he wants to believe me. "I just felt so unsure and I wanted you to understand that…its just…I am sorry I brought it up." He shakes his head.

"No. I want you to tell me when I go too far. I need you to tell me. I can't always see it. Promise you will always be honest and tell me." he looks at me with an intensity that I recognize from a dark night in St. Barts.

"Ok. I promise. " I say solemnly. He clasps my hand.

"Thank You. Molly Hooper." I smile. And almost without thinking I stand and lean forward. Murmuring "You're welcome" before placing a kiss on his cheek. As I pull away he moves forward and captures my lips. His hand snaking to the back of my neck; holding me in place. I respond enthusiastically my tongue caressing his bottom lip. My hands exploring the expanse of his bare chest. He breathes in sharply with pain and I pull back.

"Sorry are you okay?" He smiles through gritted teeth.

"Some things are worth a little pain." he says. I laugh.

"Yes. I guess they are." I reply and place a gentle kiss on his forehead. I pull away and look into his eyes, my hand gently brushing his curls away.

I feel doubt fall away. Sherlock isn't Jim. But I know he isn't Tom either, whatever the future holds it is not going to be an easy journey. Loving him is going to be painful but like he said, some things are worth the pain.

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><p>As I stare into her eyes I feel that magnetic pull that I felt at St. Barts and I wonder where it comes from. I almost ask her if she feels it too but she sits down and the moment is broken. A wave of pain overtakes me for a moment. I grimace and Molly jumps to my morphine drip.<p>

"Sherlock. This is practically turned off!" She moves to turn it up but I put a restraining hand on her.

"No. I need to think clearly."

"Why?" she asks. I look at her and I know that I can give her this secret. She will keep it safe and will help me figure the best way to handle the situation.

I tell her all about Mary and the few things I have deduced. I express how badly I want to tell John and how Mary has forbidden it. I try not to bring up my worry that Mary may still kill me. She is shocked but, in true Molly fashion, she focuses on the problem at hand. Asking questions and clarifying any misconceptions. Together we come up with a plan. Molly stresses the need to break the news gently, to show John rather than tell him. I insist that I need to break out of the hospital to force the confrontation. Molly informs me that I can't use her flat as a bolt hole; Mary knows about it. This makes me realize Mary has probably talked to Anderson. Luring her to Leinster Gardens seems the best way to make her overconfident. As we discuss everything I will do Molly worries about my health. She stands up and grabs my chart. As she flips through it she makes the little clicking noises that means she isn't satisfied with the lab results. I feel a wave of affection as I watch her.

"Sherlock. Did you say she shot you from only a few feet away?"

"Yes. Why?"

"Well. Either she is a really good shot or a really bad shot. I mean she shot you in the torso but managed to avoid any major organs. The only way she could have done less damage would be to shoot your arms or legs. I mean if she wanted you dead, why didn't she just shoot you in the head or the heart?"

My mind fires rapidly and I can't believe I didn't think about this sooner.

"Molly. You beautiful genius." I say and she giggles. Suddenly I am reassessing my assumptions and adjusting my plan. Molly is still absorbed in my chart and so hardly notices my retreat into my mind palace. As I think about John and Mary I can't help but wonder if their marriage will survive the revelations of this night. I remember John telling me about love. The memory is fuzzy but I can hear his words clearly.

_"…you love someone when you can't imagine your life without her in it. When you think more about her happiness then about your own. Because when she is happy you are happy"_

This must be how John feels about Mary and I can't help but compare it to my feelings for Molly. When I return to the room Molly is once again sitting in the chair. The sun has moved and I realize she has spent most of the afternoon with me.

"Hello again." she says

"Hello." I reply

"Do you have everything sorted?" she asks. I nod.

"Good." she smiles. "I need to get to work. I will head to Baker Street and move John's chair."

"Don't forget the perfume." I remind her.

"I know. I know Clare-de-la-lune. But you better pay me back. That stuff is expensive." she checks her watch "I'll check up on you tomorrow. Don't overdo it tonight and try to be gentle with John." she stands. "Try and get some sleep."

I don't want her to leave. Unchecked my hand reaches out and grabs her arm.

"Wait." I say. She sits back down and looks at me curiously. My mouth is suddenly dry and I consider just letting her go. Then I hear Mother's voice

_"…don't be scared. Let yourself love her back." _

My heart monitor fills the silence with it's rapid beeping. With a deep breath I begin

"Molly. I can't be entirely sure, it's not really my area. But there is a strong probability, that is…" I rub my hand through my hair and look into her expectant eyes. "You are an infuriating contradiction; equal parts steel and softness. Every time I think I have you figured out you surprise me. It's annoying. You yell at me and slap me and make me feel like an idiot. I don't understand why you have this effect on me. You are not especially beautiful. Your lips and breasts are too small by most standards. Although beauty is a construct based entirely on childhood ideals so why consult the standards?" I am on the edge of babbling. I stop and take a moment to compose my thoughts. Molly waits.

"You are extremely intelligent but you seem almost ashamed by it. You care so much and so deeply and it frightens me. I have learned to mistrust people and emotions but you embrace them, even the difficult ones. I trust you with my life. And I know you can't entirely trust me but I want to prove to you that you can." I grab her hand.

"You have buried yourself deep into my subconscious." I say emphatically. She lets out a low chuckle which causes me to loose my thoughts.

"What?"

"Nothing. Nothing. Continue." she says trying and failing to drop her smile. My eyes narrow.

"Molly I insist you tell me what is so funny."

"It's just. Janine…well she told me that you say my name in your sleep." I don't know what shocks me more, that Molly has been talking to Janine about me or that I say Molly's name in my sleep. The idea of the two women talking about me is deeply mortifying.

"What? Why would she? Clearly she is lying. Just another one of her revenge top-ups." I know I sound like a spoiled child but I can't help it.

"John also said you asked for me after surgery." Now Molly isn't even trying to hide her smile.

"Wait. I asked for you and you still didn't visit me?" I ask feeling a little hurt.

"I did visit! We had a whole conversation! Although, you might have just been talking in your sleep. But it seemed like you were talking to me. I couldn't really be sure." she scrunches her forehead in thought. Vaguely I recall talking with Molly a couple times but I can't be positive which conversation was with the actual Molly.

"It is possible I was talking to you. Well, my mind palace version of you." I explain.

"You talk to me in your mind palace?" she asks quietly. Normally I would deny and backpedal but something has changed between us. I feel the importance of being truthful with Molly even if the truth makes me vulnerable.

"Yes. Molly Hooper, you are a key figure in my mind palace. When I was shot you helped me. You walked me through the shock and pain. When I was waking up from surgery you were there to talk me through the confusion. When I needed help with John and Mary I immediately thought of you." I pause when I see the shine in her eyes. I worry that I have shared too much but I am unwilling to turn back now.

"This dependence frightens me but I find I don't want it to change. I want you in my head. I want you in my life. I would like to try and make you happy."

I watch as tears fall down her face and I hope they are not tears of sadness. I reach out and pull her close to me. Looking into her eyes so she will know I mean every word of the next sentence. I want to say that I love her but the words won't come. I feel panic. But before I can asses why, Molly takes advantage of my silence and gently kisses me. Her tears transfer to my cheeks and mingle with our lips. Maybe I can't say the words but I feel the truth of them in every part of me. Eventually I will say them and until then I will just have to show her. I deepen the kiss with a new determination.

I feel waves of pain and happiness and fear and I am positive the drugs have nothing to do with any of it.

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><p><strong>Well...hope you enjoyed it. I know he didn't say it but he will...someday. And actions speak louder than words anyway!<strong>

**It might have felt out of place but I really thought that showing Molly helping Sherlock with John and Mary was important. It shows how much he needs her. Sherlock handled revealing Mary very well. It was almost kind the way he did it. There is no way he didn't have help from someone more empathetic. **

**Leave a review if you liked it. Or leave one if you didn't, cause I like intelligent feedback! I have had a great time writing this one. Hope to see some of you again on the next story! **


	9. Chapter 9

**So this was swimming around in my head and I thought it made a nice tag to this story. Enjoy**

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><p>Epilogue<p>

I close the door quietly and walk down the hall. I feel like a live wire. My emotions and thoughts confused but electric. My lips tingling from the surprisingly passionate kiss. My heart is thundering; rushing blood everywhere and flushing my cheeks. I am lost in my beautiful new world of possibilities.

"Molly?" I turn with surprise at my name. My eyes fall on Minnie Holmes and an older gentleman I assume is Mr. Holmes. My first instinct is to run, pretend I didn't hear her and get out of there. But it is too late for that and so I smile at them while I desperately try to organize my thoughts. I don't know if I need to bring Sherlock up. I wonder if I should attempt an explanation or just try and get away with a quick greeting.

"Hello." I say trying to seem a normal level of cheerful.

Minnie gives me a wide smile and envelopes me in quick hug.

"Lovely to run into you." she says. "This is my husband Theodore. Teddy, dear, this is Molly." Teddy's eyebrows jump up his forehead at my name.

"Oh! Molly! Nice to meet you!" he says excitedly and I can't help but wonder what Minnie has told him about me.

"Nice to meet you." I reply as I take his offered hand. He wraps both of his around mine when he shakes it and gives me a kind smile.

"Been to see Sherlock?" he asks.

"Sorry. What?" I respond in shock. Before he can answer me Minnie swats him on the shoulder.

"Shhh." she says. "You weren't supposed to mention Sherlock."

"Well how was I supposed to know that?" he replies defensively.

"Because I told you it was a secret." she counters.

"Yes but we just saw her walk out of his room." he fires back. They are both smiling and I can't tell if there is any real anger behind the exchange. Before I can really collect my thoughts Minnie turns to me with an apologetic smile.

"I am sorry dear. I had hoped to give you your privacy but my dear husband has rather let the cat out of the bag." She gives Teddy a mock scowl and he rolls his eyes in response.

"Um…Ok." I say because I am not sure how to respond. My brain is still reeling from their words.

"How is Sherlock? Is his color good?" she asks and I am thankful for some facts to share.

"His color is very good. He is sleeping now. I am afraid I tired him out." I say.

"I bet you did." Teddy replies with a wicked grin. Minnie replies by swatting him again.

"Hush you. You are embarrassing the poor girl. You run along and let us have a chat." she pushes his shoulders and he dutifully turns around but before he walks away he looks back at me.

"Lovely to meet you. I hope to see more of you very soon." He flashes another grin and then walks away humming an unfamiliar tune. Minnie watches him go with a sigh and then turns back to me.

"Now Molly dear. I have a small confession to make. When I met you the other night I knew who you were. That is I knew you were the doctor that helped my Sherlock fake his death. Not right away mind you but I managed to work it out eventually. Of course by then you had bared your heart and I didn't know how to tell you." she gave me a small smile.

I feel mortified at her words. The whole situation is incredibly uncomfortable and I don't know how to escape it.

"Do you forgive me?" she asks.

"Yes. If you forgive me for the horrible things I said about your son." I reply. Minnie waves her hand.

"I have heard many horrible things about my boys. Believe me you were very mild. Besides I know Sherlock can be…difficult."

I smile and nod at her choice of word. She smiles back and her face is so full of warmth I know she isn't mad at me. In fact I think she is happy.

"I won't pry, dear, but I hope you took my advice. I hope you were brave." she makes a vague gesture to the door and I know she is referring to Sherlock. I can't help the grin that spreads across my face.

"I did take your advice and the risk was definitely worth the reward." I reply.

"Good." she smiles.

"I have to run. I have work and some…errands." I say.

"Oh, yes of course. Sorry to keep you." she says. Then after a pause she hugs me. As we embrace in the middle of the hallway she whispers in my ear.

"Don't let him push you away." I pull back and look at her.

"I won't." I promise and she smiles.

As I walk away, I feel deep down that Minnie Holmes is going to be my strongest ally in the struggle for Sherlock's heart.

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><p><strong>Hope you enjoyed it. I just wanted Molly to meet Father Holmes (Teddy is my own name for him) and have a little chat with Minnie. I am working on a sequel to this called "Going Dating". It will just be some shots of Molly and Sherlock trying to figure out how to be a couple. If you have any suggestions for that feel free to PM me or leave it in a review! <strong>

**As always review if convenient. **

**If inconvenient review anyway! =)**


	10. Chapter 10

Not a new chapter...Sorry! But I have started "Going Dating" and thought those that followed this story might want to check it out. s/10158977/1/Going-Dating Hope you enjoy it! 


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